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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26575975">bump in the night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odaigahara/pseuds/Odaigahara'>Odaigahara</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Soulmate September 2020 Plus [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Breaking and Entering, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Timers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:34:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,385</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26575975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odaigahara/pseuds/Odaigahara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 2: Timers</p><p>*</p><p>“It’s curious,” Logan said to Virgil, his study partner by virtue of being the only tolerable person in their statistics class and also his roommate. “Why would I be out so late? Even taking into account the average lag time of fifteen minutes <i>and</i> how I might be out late specifically to run into my soulmate, it would be a marked divergence from the norm.”</p><p>Virgil shrugged. He was on his second disposable coffee cup, upon which the barista had helpfully written <i>Virgin</i>. Virgil hadn’t noticed. “Are you planning to go soulmate hunting at the Devil’s Hour so organ stealers or whoever can kidnap you and sell you for parts?”</p><p>“The Devil’s Hour is three AM,” Logan corrected, “and we live adjacent to an affluent college campus. The odds of having our organs stolen-”</p><p>“Mugged, murdered, ritually sacrificed, it’s all the same when you’re dead,” Virgil said, glowering. “Probably. I dunno, don’t talk to me.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil Sanders &amp; Logic | Logan Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Soulmate September 2020 Plus [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932382</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>166</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>bump in the night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to alicat54c and GoldenMeme for beta-ing! </p><p>TW's at end of chapter.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Logan prided himself on solving his problems logically, so it was embarrassing to realize he hadn’t calculated the time he’d meet his soulmate down to the hour. Three years ago it had almost been excusable, but now there were three days left on the timer, by his reckoning, and only now was he realizing that it set their meeting at four in the morning.</p><p>“It’s curious,” he said to Virgil, his study partner by virtue of being the only tolerable person in their statistics class and also his roommate. “Why would I be out so late? Even taking into account the average lag time of fifteen minutes <em> and </em> how I might be out late specifically to run into my soulmate, it would be a marked divergence from the norm.”</p><p>Virgil shrugged. He was on his second disposable coffee cup, upon which the barista had helpfully written <em> Virgin </em>. Virgil hadn’t noticed. “Are you planning to go soulmate hunting at the Devil’s Hour so organ stealers or whoever can kidnap you and sell you for parts?”</p><p>“The Devil’s Hour is three AM,” Logan corrected, “and we live adjacent to an affluent college campus. The odds of having our organs stolen-”</p><p>“Mugged, murdered, ritually sacrificed, it’s all the same when you’re dead,” Virgil said, glowering. “Probably. I dunno, don’t talk to me.”</p><p>“Nevertheless, I need your advice,” Logan said, because Virgil tended to say things he didn’t mean when he was still tired; Logan had charted out the falsehoods and shown them to him in the past. “If I am not out past the so-called Devil’s Hour, since I adhere to a healthy sleep schedule-”</p><p>“Except for like every night before tests-”</p><p>“A <em> healthy sleep schedule </em>,” Logan said, louder, “then I will be at home, possibly in bed. Which means my soulmate will be coming to me.”</p><p>Virgil slammed his coffee cup down, making Logan smack his pens onto the floor in surprise. “Shit, you’re right,” he said vehemently. “Your soulmate might be the one stealing your organs. I think I hate them already.”</p><p>Logan scooped up the pink highlighter- used for key terms in Biology, and it worked very well, thank you, he was proud of his Pavlovian response to neon coral by now- and said, “I really only meant that they might steal our television, and possibly some other valuables.” Virgil opened his mouth, and with rare foresight Logan said, “Please do not say that organs are valuable. I’m aware, but under the likely time constraints I doubt they’ll be the target.”</p><p>Virgil huffed and sat back. </p><p>Logan sat up, placed his pens carefully into their pouch, and straightened his tie. “However, I agree that we’ll need to make preparations. If my soulmate is a burglar, they might leave as soon as they’re done, and may never risk revealing themselves for fear of being implicated in a crime. Therefore-”</p><p>“<em>Home Alone</em>,” Virgil breathed.</p><p>Logan said, annoyed, “No, Virgil, obviously you’ll be there, too. Along with the aforementioned burglar.”</p><p>Virgil slapped his hand to his face. “I’m referring to the movie. Christ, L, did you even have a childhood?”</p><p>“I used to watch Bill Nye religiously, thank you,” Logan said, miffed, “And <em> The Magic School Bus</em>, which while inaccurate at times serves as a useful tool for instilling love of the sciences in children.”</p><p>“Whatever, nerd. My point is, the kid in <em> Home Alone </em> sets traps. So, we should set traps.” </p><p>Logan waited expectantly. </p><p>Virgil shifted in his seat. “Don’t expect me to come up with any more than that. I identify problems, I don’t solve them.”</p><p>“We’re both studying to be engineers,” Logan said incredulously.</p><p>“And I’m engineering a way to get you to make the plans.” Virgil widened his eyes pointedly. Logan glared. “So? How are we gonna catch this guy?”</p><p>With a sigh, Logan capitulated and started to explain. He’d always wanted to test out methods to fight home intrusion, anyway.</p><p>*</p><p>The plan was foolproof, which of course meant that Virgil poked three figurative holes in it and made them buy more duct tape, just in case. </p><p>“And how do we know he’s not gonna see it?” Virgil demanded, stringing up more from corner to corner.</p><p>Logan ducked under the tie-dye print- they had exhausted Home Depot’s supply of plain black- and said, “Virgil, why would someone striving to avoid attention turn on the lights?”</p><p>“What if they’re <em> not </em> trying to avoid attention?” Virgil caught a sliver of tape on his sleeve, shook it, wrapped his arm up in duct tape with the motion, and glared down at it. Logan searched his mental file folder labeled “emotions” and concluded that it was an expression of betrayal. “Like, okay, hypothetical example. Let’s say the guy or gal or whatever busts the door down, turns on all the lights, and yells, and then when we come out to see what’s going on he mows us both down with an AR-15.”</p><p>“Thus providing ample evidence of himself at the crime scene?” Logan asked. “This doesn’t seem like a very intelligent murderer.”</p><p>“Maybe he’s trying to get caught! He could have been stalking us for months.”</p><p>“In that case he should probably know that he, or she, or whatever else, and I are <em> likely soulmates</em>,” Logan nearly shouted. Virgil winced and hissed. Somewhere in the evening, down on the street, someone yelled <em> wooooooo you go girl! </em> “See? No response.”</p><p>“Unless you count Sunglasses Guy from Technical Writing,” Virgil drawled.</p><p>“I do not,” Logan said firmly, and strung up the last of the duct tape. </p><p>They had worked their way from the door to the entrance to the kitchen, turning the light off with a well-aimed miniature basketball as they did so, and had covered the room with duct tape like the strands of a spider’s web. Logan had wanted to cut off all power to their apartment, too, so the lights couldn’t be turned on at all, but Virgil had refused with the claim that the landlord wouldn’t like it.</p><p>Illogical, since they could easily hide any tampering from the landlord until Logan fixed it, but sometimes he had to humor Virgil’s anxiety. It made the preparations easier, in any case.</p><p>They could still leave the apartment via fire escape, though for tonight they had locked that window thoroughly. It was best to limit all possible variables, and their trap only worked if the burglar came through the front door.</p><p>Logan checked his timer. </p><p>
  <em> 3:12:59 </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 3:12:58 </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 3:12:57 </em>
</p><p>The countdown was oddly thrilling, especially considering that he’d been more-or-less ignoring it for the past twenty years. His chest felt tight. </p><p>“I suppose all that’s left is to wait,” he croaked, and Virgil nodded, taking the aluminum baseball bat with him to the bathroom. Logan retreated behind the kitchen counter and resolved himself to patience.</p><p>At precisely <em> 15:52 </em>- close but not symmetrical, to Logan’s faint annoyance- the doorknob started to move. Logan’s breath caught in his chest.</p><p>Then the door opened, and someone burst in shouting, “Guess who’s here, bitches- ow, shit what the fuck-” and crashed to the floor.</p><p>Logan jumped out from his cover and turned on the kitchen light, revealing a roughly twenty-something man with streaked hair and an objectively horrendous mustache. He very badly wanted to shout <em> ah-ha! </em> but managed to resist the urge. </p><p>“I see my calculations were correct,” Logan said, holding up a cast iron pan for self-defense. It made him feel rather like a heroine in Roman’s make-believe films.</p><p>“What calculations?” the intruder asked, wriggling in the duct tape. Some of it had come loose from the walls and stuck to him, but most of it had wrapped around other duct tape, creating an effective prison. He was caught like the metaphorical fly in the spider’s dwelling. “Also, who the fuck are you and how are you so good at surprise bondage, this is like a fantasy come to life-”</p><p>“Shut up and get on the ground,” Virgil hissed, and Logan belatedly realized he’d come out of the bathroom, bat in hand. “Unless you’d like this fantasy to include some broken bones.”</p><p>“Virgil, you have trouble seeing dead birds,” Logan said, confused, and Virgil hissed at him, gesturing wildly in the intruder’s direction. Logan blinked, reconfiguring, and amended, “Ah. Is this an intimidation tactic?”</p><p>“It fucking <em> was</em>,” Virgil shrilled.</p><p>The guy said, flopping to the ground and getting duct tape on his pants, “This is the best birthday party ever!”</p><p>“It’s not supposed to be!” Virgil snapped. “What are you doing in our apartment?”</p><p>“Your apartment? Bitch, this is my brother’s apartment. My sad sack of a brother who can’t even stomach the most basic inflation porn, much less unsafe BDSM practices, you guys are really ahead of him in that regard! Is either of you interested in a no-strings blowjob? Also, are you guys actually burglars or what? You can tell me, the blowjob’s on the table either way. I like an element of <em> risk.” </em></p><p>Logan frowned, trying to understand the purpose of strings in a sexual act, and Virgil said, sounding uncertain, “No, this is- it’s our apartment. We’ve been living here for six months.”</p><p>“Are you sure? What year is it? What if you electrocuted yourself at the stove or died of carbon monoxide poisoning or, ooh, here’s a good one, did a murder-suicide on the James Nerd over there?”</p><p>Virgil paled and glanced at Logan. “What, no, we’re not- we’re not dead. We’d know if we were ghosts.” He worried his lip. “Unless we’ve been trapped in a loop this whole time, each time leading up to our unremembered deaths, caught in an eternal groundhog day which will inevitably end in our ceasing to exist once we’re aware of- holy shit, <em> Logan</em>, what if we’re ghosts-”</p><p>“Virgil, we went to get groceries yesterday,” Logan said. “The cashier acknowledged you.”</p><p>“That cashier could’ve been a memory, though,” the intruder said helpfully, “while actually she’s married now and has like eight kids-”</p><p>“The cashier was of an ambiguous gender and their name is Joan,” Logan snapped, voice going shrill, “and we are <em>not ghosts!</em> This is apartment 233.”</p><p>The intruder stared for a moment, then gave an exaggerated sigh. “Shit, fine, you’re right and also probably alive. I’m looking for 235.”</p><p>“Wait,” Virgil said, apparently recovered from his attack of idiocy. “Your brother- is your brother <em> Roman?” </em></p><p>The intruder perked up. “You know him?”</p><p>“None of your business. Also, what the fuck, why would he be throwing you a birthday party at four in the morning?”</p><p>“Technically it’s been my birthday for four hours now!” The intruder wiggled again, and duct tape slapped against his forehead and stuck. “Speaking of birthdays, or rather birthday suits, we’ve already got a great porno setup right here. How about I take off my clothes and-”</p><p>“No!” Virgil yelped, brandishing the bat.</p><p>Logan said, “Actually, we may have to remove your clothing to release you from the duct tape.” The intruder cheered. “But, first- I believe you’re forgetting a rather pertinent question.”</p><p>The trespasser cocked his head. “Oh, yeah,” he said, drawing it out. “How’d you know I was coming? And for once I don’t mean orgasm, ‘cause my partners know when I’m coming. You always have this epic of a setup? Did I walk in on your weird fetish play? ‘Cause lemme tell you, I’m totally consenting to all sorts of shit, you can go right ahead and involve me, baby!”</p><p>“The answer will become clear to you in-” Logan checked his timer. “One minute. In the meantime, I suppose we should introduce ourselves. My name is Logan. This is Virgil.”</p><p>“And I’m Remus, the better twin at everything, but especially sex and violence,” Remus said, brow starting to furrow. “Hey, what’d you mean by-”</p><p>Logan noticed two things at once: first, that the timer embedded in Remus’s wrist was covered by a ragged black band, meaning (he deduced) that it hadn’t been uncovered in some time. Two, that Remus now had duct tape in his hair. </p><p>“It’s simple math,” he started, thinking to figuratively cushion the blow, and the timers went off with a cacophony of shrill beeping.</p><p>Virgil jumped, and Remus froze, staring at Logan with wide, red-rimmed eyes. Logan held up his timer in silent explanation. </p><p>“Well, shit,” Remus breathed, and before Logan could think to feel offended or disheartened, added, “Now this really is a fantasy. Duct tape and a soulmate in one fell swoop? Lay on with the ball gags and blindfolds, MacDuff, let’s get this party on the road!”</p><p>“I think we’d better wake up Roman, actually,” Virgil said, eyeing Logan like he thought he might at any moment let logic give way to passion.</p><p>Logan’s face may have been hot, yes, but that hardly meant he was about to engage in copulation with a stranger. They would have to be tested for sexually-transmitted diseases first.</p><p> “Yes,” he said, tearing his face away from Remus’s starstruck eyes. “That- would be best. Along with an exchange of contact information.”</p><p>“And bodily fluids,” Remus added cheerfully. “Also, if we’re not gonna play, can you untape me, ‘cause this is chafing in some weird places.”</p><p>“How did you get it between your legs?” Virgil asked, horrified, and Logan had to cough.</p><p>“I think you know the answer to that question,” Remus said. </p><p>Virgil made a face.</p><p>“Regardless,” Logan managed, and his voice did not crack, “I believe we need to focus on the practicalities first. Virgil, could you go retrieve Roman?”</p><p>Virgil looked between Logan and the grinning Remus and said, “I think you should do that, actually. Our last conversation was about how he almost broke my arm running into me in the stairwell, so that’s not gonna go well.”</p><p>Logan’s face was burning. “Very well,” he said. “Please- be sure to start unwrapping him.”</p><p>“I’m not fucking touching this guy,” Virgil said, but Logan wasn’t around to protest; he was already ducked through the web of tape and down the hall, trying and failing to hide his blush.</p><p>Roman. He had to focus on retrieving Roman, and getting to know his neighbor’s brother, and maybe- no, that was irrelevant. </p><p>He was knocking on the door, not thinking about anything else, and everything besides the knowledge that he’d found his soulmate could <em> wait </em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: mentions of BDSM practices, mentions of organ stealing, breaking and entering</p></blockquote></div></div>
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